Second Gripe of the day is about men. I want to preface this by disclosing that I am not a man-hater by any stretch of the word, I am just an independent person and I've learned to look out for Numero Uno (moi) over the years because, quite frankly, I'm the only person that can't leave me, therefore I must forge a strong, respectable relationship between me and me. I do love my boyfriend/fiance/baby daddy very much. He is a wonderful man and a great care taker. He has 3 boys of this own with his former wife and while we're nowhere near sitting round a fire, cross-legged, holding each others hands and singing Kumbaya, we get along pretty good. I love his children dearly but I recognize that I am not their mother. I'm not a mother, period. Not yet anyway. I'm still in the process of cooking up my first one but I'm not exactly parenting this thing yet. Moving on from the background information.
I think DB (***disclosure***this stands for Dear Boyfriend, not to be confused with douche bag, that I'm sure you will see me use in future blogs. They are not mutually exclusive and I will be sure to clarify***end disclosure***) is a pretty normal dude as far as dudes go. And what I mean by this is, if you don't tell them how you are feeling (prengancy related or not), not only do they NOT think about asking you to open the Grand Coulee Dam for them, but are probably secretly praising your name for every minute that goes by in silence regarding this topic. This, I cannot blame them for. However, it is my opinion that when it comes to my pregnancy/delivery, I get the final say because it is my body and I would never do anything to harm the baby. Here's the thing, men, at the end of the day, we love you and we are so glad that you gave us the opportunity to be a mother, and we are glad you are there to help protect us and our new baby from hoodlums, dragons and theives, but your emotional state during this whole thing, and especially the delivery, has no bearing on the health of the baby, but guess whose does??? MINE! That's right. So when all is said and done, things need to be done my way so that I stay sane and comfortable and so that you don't have to sleep with one eye open and one foot on the ground for the rest of your life. And I promise you, when it comes time for you to give birth to your own baby, I will support you in WHOMEVER you want in the delivery room:) or at your ultrasounds and doctor's appointments. Because I care that much:) But right now, it's my turn to freak out and want my mommy. After all, she gave birth to me so that right there tells me that she is more experienced than you in this whole delivering-a-baby-from-my-innards-thing. Not that you don't have a significant role to play in this because you do. I want you there to wittness the birth of our baby, to continually reiterate that I'm not going to die from it, and to rejoice in the gory glory but Mom knows how to fix me. She has for 31 years so I want my mom in there to fix me because I will need it.
I'm very aware that I may catch hell for this from at least one member of the male order, but my repsonse to that is, "start your own blog then". My overall point is this: while this is your baby and will be forever and I couldn't be happier to be the caccoon, this is not your pregnancy. It is not your body competing daily for World's Most Hysterical Body Proportions nor is it your vagina going from that kept little secret garden of glory to Mighty Morphin Power Giney that seems like it could bite your head off if you get to close. So please, for the sake of everyone's well-being, but most importantly your own, I encourage you to nod and smile as much as possible. There will be plenty of time in 18 years to reconcile with a therapist about that one time your baby's mother wouldn't let you have your way in the delivery room. P.S. I'm going to school for Psychology so maybe I can help you then:)
Toodles!
I think DB (***disclosure***this stands for Dear Boyfriend, not to be confused with douche bag, that I'm sure you will see me use in future blogs. They are not mutually exclusive and I will be sure to clarify***end disclosure***) is a pretty normal dude as far as dudes go. And what I mean by this is, if you don't tell them how you are feeling (prengancy related or not), not only do they NOT think about asking you to open the Grand Coulee Dam for them, but are probably secretly praising your name for every minute that goes by in silence regarding this topic. This, I cannot blame them for. However, it is my opinion that when it comes to my pregnancy/delivery, I get the final say because it is my body and I would never do anything to harm the baby. Here's the thing, men, at the end of the day, we love you and we are so glad that you gave us the opportunity to be a mother, and we are glad you are there to help protect us and our new baby from hoodlums, dragons and theives, but your emotional state during this whole thing, and especially the delivery, has no bearing on the health of the baby, but guess whose does??? MINE! That's right. So when all is said and done, things need to be done my way so that I stay sane and comfortable and so that you don't have to sleep with one eye open and one foot on the ground for the rest of your life. And I promise you, when it comes time for you to give birth to your own baby, I will support you in WHOMEVER you want in the delivery room:) or at your ultrasounds and doctor's appointments. Because I care that much:) But right now, it's my turn to freak out and want my mommy. After all, she gave birth to me so that right there tells me that she is more experienced than you in this whole delivering-a-baby-from-my-innards-thing. Not that you don't have a significant role to play in this because you do. I want you there to wittness the birth of our baby, to continually reiterate that I'm not going to die from it, and to rejoice in the gory glory but Mom knows how to fix me. She has for 31 years so I want my mom in there to fix me because I will need it.
I'm very aware that I may catch hell for this from at least one member of the male order, but my repsonse to that is, "start your own blog then". My overall point is this: while this is your baby and will be forever and I couldn't be happier to be the caccoon, this is not your pregnancy. It is not your body competing daily for World's Most Hysterical Body Proportions nor is it your vagina going from that kept little secret garden of glory to Mighty Morphin Power Giney that seems like it could bite your head off if you get to close. So please, for the sake of everyone's well-being, but most importantly your own, I encourage you to nod and smile as much as possible. There will be plenty of time in 18 years to reconcile with a therapist about that one time your baby's mother wouldn't let you have your way in the delivery room. P.S. I'm going to school for Psychology so maybe I can help you then:)
Toodles!
Thats so funny I almost peed!
ReplyDeleteI had my mommy in the room with me for my first baby, but not the other two. I'm pretty sure that with the second and third, after having seen what goes on when that baby "pops" out, that he would have switched places with my mom in a heartbeat. :P
ReplyDeleteI had my mom both times and she was definitely needed. And I agree that the decision should be yours!!!
ReplyDelete